


Sweet Flamingo

by nosmokingpistol



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosmokingpistol/pseuds/nosmokingpistol
Summary: Tom waits in an alley for the woman he loves to finish her show at the Flamenco club.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Sweet Flamingo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IzHunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzHunny/gifts), [arisanite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arisanite/gifts).



He stood in the alley off Calle Betis and waited. The stone wall was cool against his back and he could smell the nearby river and the sour tang of days-old piss behind the rubbish bins. As he listened to the muffled staccato of heels against aged wood coming from the club he smiled. Her cheeks would be flushed now, her body hot, and he knew the scent of her would be rising like the warm perfume of fine linens hung to dry in the summer sun. Her lips would be stained from the sweet Malaga she drank between shows. 

They’d met here, months ago, when he’d come to Triana on holiday. He’d introduced himself after the show and when he told her he danced flamenco she had laughed that deep, throaty laugh that went straight through him. That was why he was here, waiting to surprise her. It wasn’t her dark beauty or her quick wit, or the way the world fell away when he was moving deep inside her. It wasn’t her lithe grace, or her kind and gentle nature, or that she looked like an angel and fucked like a whore. It was her laugh. Her laugh was a fire on a winter’s night, and the joy of life, and hope for tomorrow. It spoke to everything in his soul.

The sound of drunken applause broke his reverie. He closed his eyes and pictured her in her dressing room, peeling off her form-fitting dress. He licked his lips as he imagined it sliding over her full, dusky breasts and down past her legs to the floor. God, those legs. He could die with those legs wrapped around him and count himself a lucky man. He bit his lip as he felt heat begin to pool deep in his belly. Patience.

He opened his eyes again and watched the musicians and bar staff exit through the alley door. He was surprised to find his eyes wet with tears, and yet it shouldn’t have surprised him at all, not really. He’d admitted the truth to himself weeks ago but hadn’t yet given it voice. He would, though. Soon. So very soon.

He pushed off the wall as she stepped through the door and approached her, smiling. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her face as she gasped in surprise. As he opened his mouth to speak she tilted her head back and laughed, and his mouth went dry and the fire burned so hot, so low in his belly that all he could do was reach out his arms and hold her. She clung to him, and it was _her. It was always her, would always be her_ , and he would say it. He would. But for now, as his soul filled with white heat and he bent down to kiss her wine-sweet lips, all he could do was whisper. His voice was low and ragged with need.

“Hello, darling.”


End file.
